Castlevania: Requiem of Madness
by Doktor Devious
Summary: I am still working on the title. Please feel free to submit your suggestions via Private Messaging, and ONLY Private Messing(Like anyone's going to listen...*slaps my head* Ow...) Alice, both my OC and main character of this story, goes through Hell and back, almost literally, as she battles the horrors of Castlevania. Hence the M rating. Chapter 2 in progress...


Note from ze Doktor: This site needs an "Other" option if the story you're writing is NOT a fan-made story for a certain book, video game, Anime/Manga, TV show, etc. so why force authors to put that as the category?

Anyway, without further ado I give-eth thee my Castlevania story.

Disclaimer: (It shall remain here) I do not own Castlevania nor will I ever own said series. Unless they want to make this story into a game, which I doubt. Pessimism can be a bitch sometimes...I just own the character and the still-developing plot of the story.

What was once a good day suddenly turned into a nightmare. Here I am, sitting in a padded cell awaiting my next therapy session and, later, another dose of Laudanum. "How did it come to this?" you ask? Allow me to answer your question with another question. Why did it come to this? Right now you're probably wondering who I am, right?

My name is Alice Powl and I've been a patient at Aiud's psychiatric hospice for eight months since an event involving the death of the King, me being framed for said death, my incarceration, a horde of Ghouls attacking the city, a mysterious castle, a crazed Vampire, a cross-shaped weapon dubbed 'Vampire Killer', the spirit of said weapon's creator, Rinaldo Galdofi, the death of a messenger, long story, with a document, from the heir, saying that his men found the real murderer, the death of said Vampire and finally me losing all sanity and ending up right where I am now. Said psychiatric hospice.

Let me begin with the death of the King...

(Aiud, Transylvania. October 14, 1581. Sunrise.)

I shield my eyes as the curtains are pulled open "What the hell?" I say to the silhouetted figure at my bedroom window "Alice Powl?" said figure asks "Y...yeah?" I ask, chills running down my spine as I recognize the voice, "You're under arrest for the murder of the King. Get dressed and come with me. His son told me to drag you out of bed but I'd rather walk you to the castle, with you being fully clothed and, since we're friends, without wrist irons." now I recognize the voice. It is Duncan Stamph, Captain of the Guard and a close friend. I saved his life when we were children and, years later, he saved mine. You could say we're even. "Fine, but I need some privacy if you want me to get dressed." I say to him, "Besides, it's not like I'd try to escape in naught but my skin." I say with a smile to which he responds with a chuckle and "I know you too well, Powl. Now get dressed, the Prince will be furious if I am late." and stepping out of my room with his men.

In short order, I combed my hair, applied my usual perfume, slid into my usual body suit, tightened the straps, slid into my boots, also tightening the straps, put on my makeup, slipped on a sleeveless tunic, it's a mirrored version of the one I usually wear(black with red stitching, this one's white with the same stitching) that ends above my knees at the front and below at the back, and buckled my belt, which holds my Butterfly Knife, around my waist "You won't be needing that." Duncan stated, nearly making me jump a foot in the air "Oh. Right." I say, removing the knife's holster from the belt and dropping it onto my bed along with the knife. "I'm ready." I say before accomanying Duncan through the front door.

As we pass through the slums then the city's streets, I feel everyone's eyes on me "Murderer!" a mother cries "Why would you commit such a crime?!" a beggar shouts "Traitorous little whore!" screams another familiar voice. This voice belonged to Duncan's grandmother, Isabella, who I wished would just drop dead. But I digress, I responded to her insult by pulling the lower lid of my right eye and sticking out my tongue and continued walking, basically I gave her the stink-eye "Bitch!" an old crone hissed as she threw a rock in my direction, said rock bounced harmlessly off the right pauldron of a guard to my right.

Did I mention that being friends with the Captain of the Guard had its perks? He'd still have you arrested but if you were as close as we were, he'd give you time to get some clothes on and get yourself ready to go rather than just drag you out of your home regardless. If you were naked, you'd get a blanket to cover yourself. Nothing more.

"You are late." Gabriel says to us as we approach the Palace gates "Just shut-up and get that damn gate open." Duncan impatiently states "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." Gabriel, the gate guard, says as he and a fellow guard pulls open the gate, letting us through.

Up the steps, past the heavy oak double doors and through a series of corridors we now find ourselves in the throne room "Guardsman!" a familiar shrill voice shouts at Duncan. I turn my head to see the Princess, Anne, who asks "Why is she not in irons?" the Princess, I'm not good with names, asks when her eyes fall to my manacle-free wrists "No need." I begin, but am cut off by "No need?" she raves "No need?!" "I'm cooperating so there is no need for the irons." I calmly state, turning my head to the Prince, "Even YOU know what I look like." I say before adding "Did anyone even get a good look at the murderer?" I ask "Did she look like me, wear the same outfit as me or even matched my hair?" I pry "If you're prosecuting me based on the incompetence of your guards then I will happily take the chopping block." I finish.

"You will happily take it?" Anne asks "Only if it means I will no longer have to look at your ugly face." is my answer, at which Anne is appalled. "I'm sorry." I quickly say as realization hits, "Impending death, in-the-moment kind of thing-GAH!" I get cut off as Anne slapped me. I let her do it this time, but as she tried to follow it up with a left hook, I twist her arm behind her back "Only the one." I say to her as I push her away. I only meant to push her hard enough to make her stumble. Now you see why I don't wear a dress. She fell. "I didn't mean for THAT to happen." I say in apology but on the inside I'm laughing my ass off. "Bitch!" she yells upon regaining her feet "Pot." I raise my left hand, "Kettle." I raise my right "Have we met before?" I ask

"Please!" Raphael, the Prince, heir, whatever you want to call him, shouts, "Anne, I know you hate her, but she was the King's choice when it came to our city's protection." our eyes lock for a moment, then he continues "But I don't think she'd do such a thing." "I KNOW she would!" Anne screams "Can someone PLEASE, for the love of God, shove a cork in this girl's mouth?!" I hiss, my eyes twitching, "You know. I am GLAD you're still living in the slums." Anne's statement did strike a nerve but it's true. "I live in the slums because that is where I was raised." I begin, "Plus, the reason your Father took me under his employ is because the slums form a perfect circle around the rest of the city. Any and all enemies will have to go through there just to set foot on the Palace steps." I say before asking "And who knows that place better than the resident of said slums?" I look around, awaiting an answer "That's right. No one. Who helps coordinate the defense?" I ask, "Who knows where to hide your soldiers?" I ask, prying, "And, best of all, who has better contacts in that part of the city so you stay well informed?" I look around again, awaiting an answer "That's right." I say in answer to my own questions, "She's about to be put to death." I say, pointing to myself "And if you kill me, you'd have lost the trust of every beggar, vagrant, drunk and lepper that walks, crawls and stumbles through those streets." I hiss once more.

"All right. We'll launch an investigation." Raphael says, "Maybe find someone who got a good look at the murderer." I add for him "Right. For the time being you will be sent to the dungeons." Raphael says, "But before we do that. Where were you on the night of the King's murder?" "I was in bed like always. Most likely tossing and turning. Trying to find the right position in which to sleep." I answer in a detatched tone "We've all been there, Alice." Raphael sympathetically states, "No need to drag her." He adds as Duncan and company lead me to the dungeons.

End notes. Sorry for it being so long. This chapter was pretty much supposed to give kind of a backstory on this character. As I said in the opening notes, I'm still working on the title. For those reading in the future, the title's probably done by then. Who knows? Maybe I'll keep it the way it is?

This chapter was brought to you by Devious Productions. Devious Productions, where mayhem is made.


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